


A Chance Encounter

by Darkestsiren



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9319499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkestsiren/pseuds/Darkestsiren
Summary: Miserable and lonely in the big city, Justin runs into Brian on the street and takes (another) chance on love. Brian's reaction is surprising.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the third in my little series of what I've imagined may have happened after the end of the show. Each one is posted as it's own thing so keep an eye out! I hope you enjoy!

New York hadn’t been easy. She hadn’t opened herself up to him the way he’d wanted. The way he’d tried not to expect. 

Before they’d cancelled the wedding, he and Brian had felt sure, relieved almost, to have finally come to understand what they were to each other. Lovers yes, but so much more. They were, each for other, that one person who never let you take the easy road, never let you sell yourself short, sacrifice who you were for anything. Or anyone. Even each other. At the time it had felt right, scary and hard, but right. 

Now?

Now was a different story. Instead of feeling like he was embracing his true self, Justin just felt alone, stifled by the emptiness that was slowly swallowing him. He hadn’t realized before that Brian was more than just a man he loved beyond all reason. He was his inspiration, his muse, the one person whose very presence filled him with life, as though Brian’s vibrance and verve somehow seeped from him into Justin. 

It was more than that too. Brian challenged him, kept him honest, kept him true. So many times since he’d left Pittsburg Justin had questioned himself, doubted his ability, his skills, his worth. He wasn’t pushing himself, he knew. He wasn’t breaking barriers, real or imagined, or making a statement. He was playing it safe. And everything suffered as a result. 

He wasn’t sleeping much and when he did his dreams were filled with fences, locked doors, images of desire just out of reach. And Brian. Always Brian. He’d thought that eventually he’d get over him. That’s what you do, right? Move on. The feelings faded until finally you were free of them, free to give your love to someone new. 

So, why then, wasn’t that happening? It had been a year. They’d talked a few times, gotten together when Justin came home for Christmas, made love as many times as possible in two short days. That had been the worst; leaving again after that. All the feelings were still there, still strong. It hurt just as much, if not more, to walk out the door a second time. After that he’d been more distant, calling less, emailing less. When he went home for his birthday, Justin actually made an effort to avoid seeing Brian. 

He was miserable. It felt like he’d suffered a permanent injury to his chest, his being. His entire self. 

Justin knew he should date. Fuck, at least. But most nights he couldn’t get himself to even go out, much less find someone to fuck. The idea of being with someone else made his stomach turn. He wondered how many men Brian had slept with since they’d ended things. Ended. That was the wrong word. They hadn’t decided to stop being in love. They’d just decided not to let that dictate where their lives went. To follow their own dreams. Make their own ways. 

It had seemed good at the time. 

But Justin knew, now, that he’d been wrong. That his own way was with Brian, that his dreams were alongside his lover. The love of his life. The one. 

And he’d let him go. The wound festered, and wouldn’t heal. 

It was with these thoughts snarling around in his head that Justin made his way blindly down the busy sidewalk on his way to a new gallery. His portfolio was tucked under one arm, his boots unlaced, his scarf wrapped around his neck. His jacket was open to the mid-November wind and Justin pulled it more tightly around himself, eyes on the sidewalk, and cursed. 

His shoulder hit someone else’s and he was knocked sideways, his portfolio slipped to the ground as he glanced back, irritated. 

His gut clenched. “Brian!”

The man he’d walked into looked back, brown eyes widening as recognition registered. He licked his lips, hesitated, came to stand in front of him, silent all the while. Justin looked up into Brian’s surprised, hopeful eyes, eyes full of words he couldn’t say, and made a desperate, snap decision. In one motion he pulled Brian into him and sealed their lips together, headless of the people streaming past them. Brian started in surprise but he didn’t move away; he melted into the kiss. And Justin kissed him, kissed him with everything that had been floating around in his head all these past months, all the unexpressed pain, the love and desire, all the craving and hunger in his soul. He kissed Brian like he was finally alive again. 

Brian whimpered, his arms going around him, flattening Justin out against his chest, bending him back as he returned Justin’s kiss with the same smoldering intensity. 

Both were panting when they finally parted. Justin buried his head in the crook of Brian’s neck, breathing in his scent, his arms still tight around him. “I miss you,” he admitted. 

Brian nodded, fingers combing through Justin’s fine hair. “I love you.”

Justin looked up, catching Brian’s eyes. They were glistening. “Then why aren’t we together?” he asked. “I hate not being with you. I can’t stand it anymore.”

Brian closed his eyes and pulled his lips in between his teeth. Justin knew Brian was steeling himself against the pain of giving Justin the litany of reasons they’d had for separating in the first place.

Justin shook his head. “It isn’t working. My dreams are with you, Brian. They always have been. My own way is beside yours. We belong to each other.”

A line appeared on Brian’s forehead. He’s fighting, Justin thought. He knew, somehow, that if he didn’t get Brian back right there in the street with his discarded art portfolio at their feet, he never would. 

“I don’t want to live without you anymore,” he said. “It hurts too much.”

Brian looked down at him, opened his mouth to protest.

Justin stopped him, a finger on his lips. “I’m not happy here, away from you. And I’m willing to bet you aren’t happy either.”

Brian’s face crumpled. He nodded minutely. 

Justin leaned in and kissed him again, softly this time. “I want this,” he said. “You. I want to be with you.”

Brian leaned his forehead against Justin’s and let out a slow, shaky breath. “I feel like I’ve been waiting a hundred years for you to say that.”

“What?” Justin gaped, leaning back. 

“I had to be sure, Justin. I couldn’t let you sacrifice your future because you thought I was the one for you.”

Justin frowned but Brian pushed on. “I was your first. Your first fuck, your first love. Most people fall in love a lot before they finally find someone they want to spend their lives with. Look at Michael. And Emmet, and Ted. Hell, everyone!”

“Yeah, but they’re not us,” Justin said. 

“I never thought I’d fall in love with anyone,” Brian said, quiet. His gaze was turned inward. 

“I know.” Justin traced a finger along Brian’s cheekbone, smiling. “But you did.”  
 Brian looked down at him, the first hints of a smile pulling at his lips. “I did.” 

“So? Are we a couple again?”  
 Brian ducked his head, hiding his smile. “Seems that way.” He looked Justin in the eye. “Am I moving to New York or are you moving back to Pittsburg?”

Lightness filled Justin, spinning inside him, erasing the constant hurt he’d been living with since he’d left Brian a year ago. He surged up and caught Brian’s lips again, crushing into him, opening his mouth to taste him. Brian caught him around the waist and shoved through the crowd until he could press Justin back against the cement building lining the street. He kissed him deeply, heat building between them until their touches became frantic. 

“My apartment,” Justin gasped, pulling Brian’s hand away from his zipper. “Now.”

He darted into the street, grabbed his portfolio off the ground and took Brian’s hand, guiding him home. 

Brian pulled out his phone while they walked and dialed. “Cynthia,” he said when the line connected. “Please call Southerfield and tell them I need to reschedule. And tell Theodore to implement the plan.” Silence while he listened. “Yes, he’ll know. Ok, thanks, Cynthia.”

“The plan?” Justin asked, fumbling for his keys. 

Brian shrugged. “Work thing,” he said, offhanded. His focus was on Justin, his eyes, lips, the blue scarf around his neck, the way his chest looked in that shirt. He managed to get the scarf and the shirt off by the time Justin finally got his door open. They tumbled inside, Justin pushing Brian’s jacket over his shoulders, reaching to loosen the button on his shirt. 

“God, I missed this,” Justin breathed, lips searching for Brian’s. 

They made love. They made plans. They made love some more. They slept, ate, loved. They smiled more than either of them had for the past year.

A week later they went back to Pittsburg. Brian rented a van and helped Justin load everything he owned into the back. It wasn’t much. Some clothes, a few books, Canvases, paints and brushes. The food was donated. The booze consumed. He left the mattress he’d been sleeping on but took the blankets. They took turns driving. 

When they arrived at Brian’s apartment, tired but supremely happy, they opened the door to hundreds of white roses, white candles on every conceivable surface, the bed made up with white satin sheets, a hot meal laid out on the table, and a small velvet box waiting on Justin’s plate. 

Justin stood in the doorway, shocked to his core. His smile, when it appeared, was soft and small, but his eyes filled with tears. He turned and buried his face in Brian’s chest, clutching him tight.

“Welcome home, my love,” Brian said into his hair. 

Justin raised his head, hardly able to believe what was happening. “Was this, ‘the plan?’”

Brian grinned wickedly, and gestured for Justin to go in. 

“This is…”  
“Cheesy?” Brian chuckled.

Justin faced him. “Beautiful,” he said. 

Brian blushed, but he looked pleased. “Are you hungry?”

Justin eyed the table, the steaming food. The white-clad waiter he hadn’t noticed at first. “Let’s serve ourselves,” he smiled. “Later.” He pulled his sweater over his head and started unbuckling his belt, letting the heat come into his eyes as he looked at Brian. 

Brian bit his lip, returning Justin’s lustful look. “You can go,” he called to the waiter. “Your check will be mailed to you.”

The waiter excused himself, closing the door behind him with a bang. They didn’t notice. Already their clothes littered the floor, their bodies sliding against white satin. It was a long time before they got to the food. 

And the velvet box.

Justin picked it up gingerly, turning it over in his hands. “Is this what I think it is?”

Brian smiled, eyes twinkling. “I never returned them. I hoped, maybe, someday…” 

“We could try again?”

Brian nodded. “Now that we both know for sure, Justin Taylor,” Brian took a breath. He took the box from Justin and opened it, picking out one of the rings. Then he caught Justin’s eye. “You are the only person I’ve loved,” he said. “The only person I will ever love. I want to spend every day and every night with you by my side. I want to share every part of my life with you, as crazy as it is, and I want to share every part of your life with you, if you’ll let me.” Brian sank down to one knee in front of where Justin sat, naked, in his chair. 

Justin’s heart was pounding.

“Will you marry me, Justin?”

Justin didn’t breathe. How had this happened? Was he dreaming? Finally lost his mind? He looked down at Brian and felt like his whole life was finally back to where it was supposed to be. 

His smile was soft, sure. “Yes, Brian. Yes! Nothing would make me happier!”

**Author's Note:**

> My, that really was awfully fluffy, wasn't it? lol. Let me know how you liked it, please, and thanks for reading!


End file.
